Richie's punishment
by Richefic
Summary: Richie pushes the boundaries just a little too far. Duncan knows that he has to punish him. The question is - how? Set in my I never liked Art .. universe, a companion piece to Rite of Passage. Now Complete.
1. Default Chapter

AN- So, there I was happily writing away on Rite of Passage and Richie and Walker were having a few issues, and then I wanted Mac's take on such things and also to explain why Richie felt like he did, and suddenly I have a whole new story. You don't have to be reading Rite of Passage to understand this. But if you read this it might help you understand the issues coming up in Rite of Passage!

If you've never read any of my stories, you just need to know that in this Richie is only 16. This takes place in the time between Connor leaving and Richie's 17th Birthday in I never liked Art..

***

For the tenth time in as many minutes Richie looked over at the display case, holding the swords.

Mac had told him that on no account was he to handle the swords, when the Immortal wasn't there to supervise.

He had nodded earnestly.

But he hadn't actually _said_ that he wouldn't.

The case was locked.

But he had his lock picks in his jacket pocket.

Tessa was at a meeting with the Art Director of the Museum and wouldn't be home for at least another hour.

Mac had gone to see the Shipping Agent. He'd been gone for a hour. But it was right across town and the traffic was always bad at this time of day.

He had plenty of time.

He could put the closed sign up for five minutes.

If anyone complained he could say he needed to go to the bathroom.

Which was not a lie. Everyone needed to go to the bathroom, sometimes.

No-one need ever know.

***

The lock picks jammed awkwardly in the ancient lock. Afterwards, Richie would see that as a sign from God that maybe this wasn't one of his more stellar ideas. But that was later.

Right now, he just swore softly under his breath and persisted until he heard the lock click.

"Bingo." He breathed.

The two handed broad sword was rather heavier than he had imagined. He had a near miss with an expensive Venetian vase as he lifted the sword out of its place, bringing it around in a less than graceful swoop.

"Oops." Richie bit his lip, and spread his feet apart, to try and balance the sword.

"Nice," he grinned, turning the blade into the light.

It couldn't hurt to just try it out.

He brought the sword up and tried to raise it in a defensive move over his head. Except, that it was a little too heavy and almost got away from him.

Still, Richie didn't think anyone would notice the small nick in the floor.

Perhaps cut and thrust was more his style, he decided, adopting a dramatic en garde pose.

The sound of the apartment door opening caused him to freeze in alarm.

"Please don't let it be him," Richie breathed. "Anyone but him." Right now a thief, a kidnapper, or a sword wielding maniac, would be a more welcome sight than his employer and would be father.

"Or Tess." He added, as an afterthought to his fervent prayer.

The Frenchwoman could be pretty formidable when she chose. And besides, she would tell Mac.

"Richie?" The Immortal's concerned tone drifted through the Store.

"Um, just a minute, Mac." Richie called back.

He spun around to return the heavy sword to its proper place.

Unfortunately, the sword didn't quite spin with him, slicing cleanly across his palm.

***

"Hey Tough Guy," Duncan greeted him. "Why .."

He trailed off at the sight of the open sword case, and the incriminating evidence, balanced on its point between the floor and Richie's left hand.

"What the _hell_ do you think you are doing?" he exploded, angrily.

Richie didn't appear to hear him. He was staring dully at his right hand.

"Richie!" Duncan demanded.

"Shouldn't it be bleeding?" the teen asked him hollowly.

"What?" Anger fled to be  replaced with concern.

"I cut it," Richie looked up at him. His eyes wide, in his too pale face. "Shouldn't it be bleeding?"

Duncan had seen the signs of shock too often to dismiss them lightly.

"Let me take a look, huh?" he spoke gently.

The cut was bad. In places Duncan could see the bright gleam of bone. And the rivulets of blood, just beginning to well up in the gaping hole.

"OK, Tough Guy, we're going to take a little trip, OK?"

"I can't," Richie protested. "I have to look after the Store."

"And I have to look after you." Duncan told him.

As he glanced around for something to stem the blood flow,  his eyes lit on an Antique silk hanging.

Its four figure value was nothing to him in comparism to Richie's welfare.

Snatching it up, he wrapped it firmly around the cut hand.

"Mac, that hurts." Richie protested, sounding rather younger than his usual self.

"Sorry, partner," Duncan apologised. "It has to be tight."

"Oh," Richie swayed a little. "I'm being punished, so it has to hurt, right?"

"_Richie__," Hating himself for having to keep the pressure on the wound, Duncan realised that the pale, sweating, teen, was in no state to be reasoned with._

So he did the only thing he could think of.

He hugged Richie hard. Feeling the teen tremble slightly in his grasp.

"I thought you'd be mad at me." Richie quavered.

"Oh, I'm far from pleased," Duncan assured him. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you."

"Am I going to die?" Richie surprised him.

"Lord, no," Duncan was already dialling the Ambulance. "Tis a nasty cut, but a few stitches and some antibiotics and you'll be as right as rain."

"So, why are you being so nice to me?" Richie slurred.

"Because." Duncan countered with the teen's favourite argument.

This was not a topic he wanted to get into while the lad bled all over the floor.

Bizarrely, it seemed to make some sense to Richie, because he nodded sagely, just before he passed out.. 

***

After that Duncan decided not to waste time calling an Ambulance. It would be quicker to take him, himself. Pausing only to leave a brief note for Tessa and wrap a warm blanket and a second cloth around the injured hand, he carried the unconscious lad to the car, trying not to notice how fast the two cloths were becoming saturated with dark red blood. 

He didn't know whether to be pleased or anxious when one glance at the injury was enough to speed them straight through to an examining room.

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave Mr ..?" the nurse tried to hustle him away from the table.

"Macleod," Duncan supplied. "Can't I stay. He doesn't .."

"No, _please_, I don't want to stay here .."

Duncan's head whipped around sharply at the unaccustomed note of begging in the lad's voice. Richie's eyes were wide and scared, as he looked frantically around.

"Easy Rich, its alright." He put a hand on the teen's shoulder. "They just need to take a look at your hand."

"Mac," Richie gripped his arm so hard that Duncan could almost feel the bruises rising. "Please, I don't want this .."

"I'm sorry Tough Guy," Duncan shook his head. "Its necessary."

"No, please," Tears welled up in Richie's eyes. "Please don't leave me here. I'll be good. I promise."

Duncan had to remind himself that the lad had lost a lot of blood. He wasn't quite himself.

"Hey, I'm _not_ leaving you here," he reached one arm around Richie and gave him a hug. "I just want to get you checked out."

The comforting weight of the Immortal's arm around his shoulders visibly calmed the lad.

"You promise?" Richie asked quietly.

"My word on it," Duncan assured him. 

***

Duncan had never quite lost his awe at the power of modern medicine. Some replacement blood, extra fluids, a dose of pain medication and some temporary butterfly closures later and Richie was almost back to normal.

Which wasn't entirely a blessing in the circumstances.

"C'mon Mac, I've been poked and prodded and punctured. Can't we go home now? Pleeese?" Richie tried his best puppy dog expression.

"Sure," Duncan agreed. "I think we have some cat gut somewhere."

"Great!" Richie started to move. Then stopped. "Cat gut?" he queried.

"Yeah," Duncan nodded. "That still needs stitches." He nodded at the cut.

"They use cats insides?" Richie grimaced. "That's gross."

"Well, no. I'm sure by now the Hospital has some synthetic alternative," Duncan allowed. "But, I haven't had to do this for a while."

"But you know how to? Right?" Richie was looking a bit uncertain.

"How hard can be it?" Duncan shrugged. "Although, I'm not sure what we've got in the way of anaesthetics .."

"Alright, already," Richie scowled at him.

"What?" Duncan asked innocently.

"You know what," Richie sulked. "I'll stay here until the nice Doctors say I can go. Alright?"

"If that's what you want." Duncan shrugged.

"Are you sure you've never raised any teenagers before?" Richie grumbled.

"I think I would have remembered." Duncan assured him.

***

"Hang in there," Duncan squeezed Richie's shoulder, when the teen tensed slightly, as the needle dragged through his ragged flesh. "You're doing fine."

Richie gave him a tight, grateful, smile, but it was clear from his drawn, hollow, features, that he fervently wished the ordeal was over.

"Almost done. This is a pretty big cut." The Doctor apologised, as he carefully drew the stitch closed. "Knife, was it?"

"Sword." Duncan corrected.

"Jesus H Christ!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Don't you know enough to keep those things locked up? He's just a kid for God's sake!"

"A kid with more curiosity than is good for him and a functioning set of lock picks, unless I miss my mark.." Duncan replied dryly.

Under his hand, Richie tensed a little. This time Duncan didn't think it was from the pain.

"Oh," the Doctor made the next stitch. "Well, the signs are that he'll live to regret it." He added, cheerfully.

"Will there be scarring?" Duncan asked, in concern. "Or tissue damage?"

"No," the Doctor looked up in surprise. "It's a clean cut, and I do good work. A few exercises, that he can do at home, and he'll be good as new."

"But you said .." Duncan trailed off.

"Ah," the Doctor nodded in realisation. "Its just that, in my experience, the kind of acting out that necessitates a trip to the Hospital, usually encourages parents to get real creative when it comes to punishment regimes."

"Punishment?" Richie squeaked.

"I'm guessing you didn't exactly have your Father's permission to check out his swords with your lock pick." The Doctor said pointedly.

"Far from it." Duncan said dryly.

"There all done," the Doctor finished up. "You might want to give him a couple of painkillers and a decent nights sleep before you come down too hard on him."

"Right." Duncan said doubtfully.

"Mac?" Richie gave him a worried look.

"First things first," Duncan decided. He carefully helped the teen off the table, supporting him as he swayed a little. "Let's get you home and rested up and then we'll talk."

The truth was, Duncan had never had to punish Richie before. He desperately wanted to do the right thing.

If only he knew what that was.

TBC!


	2. Fears and confusion

AN- Thanks for the reviews and all the e-mail feedback, this is very much a moral dilemma type story, so there'll be a few twists and turns before its fully resolved, hopefully to everyone's satisfaction!

***

Keeping his arm around the teenager's shoulders, Duncan guided him back out into the reception area.

He told himself that the slight trembling he could feel from the lad was only natural after such an ordeal.

No cause for concern.

"Mr Macleod," a nurse appeared apologetically at his elbow. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to fill these out before you can go."

"Oh, of course."

Duncan steered Richie to a nearby armchair.

"You stay put, OK?"

"Yes sir." Richie acknowledged quietly.

Duncan's head came up sharply, at the dutiful tone. 

The lad must still be in shock. Perfectly normal, in the circumstances. That was all it was.

Fishing in his pocket for some loose change, he bought a cardboard cup of some brown liquid, claiming to be tea, from a vending machine.

"Here," he offered it. "Drink that. Its hot and sweet, and it'll make you feel better."

He braced himself for an argument, well aware that, even tried and dehydrated, Richie would favor a soda.

"Thanks." Wide eyed and grateful, Richie accepted the cup.

Alright, so the lad was simply too tired to care.

He'd be fine after a good night's rest.

Duncan made short work of the forms, mentally blessing Connor for ensuring that they knew Richie's blood group and the like. For once, the arrival of the orderly, pushing the regulation wheelchair down the corridor, was a welcome sight.

Now Richie would whine and complain at being treated like an invalid, protesting that it was hand that was hurt and his feet were _just fine, thank you _and Duncan would have to threaten to carry him, or some such nonsense, and all would be back to normal.

Well, as close to normal as this family ever got.

Except that, Richie just climbed meekly into the chair.

Duncan sighed. No longer able to ignore the blindingly obvious.

The idea that the Immortal might punish him, had clearly never occurred to Richie before.

And he was plainly terrified by the prospect.

***

Richie sat quietly in the wheelchair, trying to attract as little attention as possible, as the orderly delivered them to the door.

"Doesn't talk much, does he?" the orderly commented cheerfully.

"He's had a busy day." Mac's dry tone set a shiver down Richie's spine.

Let's see, he'd managed to neglect the man's business, probably alienating some valued customers in the process, played hooky from the job he was paid, handsomely, to do, courtesy of a bunch of lock picks he'd definitely allowed the Immortal to believe he didn't have any more, no doubt blunting the edge of a very expensive and possibly irreplaceable Antique sword, to play with a deadly weapon that the Immortal had strictly forbidden him to touch without permission.

Oh yeah, a really busy day.

"Well, you take care of him." The orderly grinned in farewell, as Richie clamoured out of the wheelchair, not daring to look the Immortal in the eye.

"Oh aye, I intend to."

Richie's heart sank. This was gonna be bad.

"C'mon, Richie," Duncan's tone was clipped. "Get in the car. You're dead on your feet here."

_Or maybe I'm just dead,_ Richie shuddered visibly, as he moved to obey.

"For Lord's sake lad. That jacket of yours is neither use nor ornament." Duncan scolded.

Richie tensed at the exasperation in his voice. Fully expecting it to be followed by a blow.

The next thing Richie knew, the Immortal had shrugged out of his heavy coat, dropped his sword behind the seats, and wrapped the soft wool around Richie's shoulders.

"There, warmer now?" Mac ruffled his hair.

Richie felt the tears well up at the unexpected, kindness.

"I thought I was in trouble?" He managed.

"And that's reason enough to let you catch your death?" the Immortal gave him a odd look.

"Wouldn't blame you," Richie managed tightly, "All the trouble I've caused."

"Rich, if I though for one second you'd remember this conversation in the morning .." Duncan cupped his hand around his neck in a now familiar gesture of affection.

 "I'm sorry," Richie quavered.

"Aye lad. So am I." Duncan offered cryptically. "C'mon. Let's get you home."

***

"Oh my goodness," Tessa put her hand to her mouth, as Duncan carried the unconscious teen into the apartment. "Your note said it was just a cut."

"It is," Duncan assured her. Then grimaced. "Its just a very big cut."

"How is he? What did the Doctor say? Why is he not conscious?" Tessa fired questions at him, as he headed towards Richie's room.

"He'll be fine. He's had a few stitches, quite a few pills and he's sound asleep."

"Stitches?" Tessa began clearing clothes and CDs off the bed. "How many stitches?"

"There won't be any scarring." Duncan evaded her question, as he laid the teen on the bed, quickly stripping him down to shorts and T-shirt, before tucking the comforter around him and dropping a soft kiss on his forehead.

"He is so pale." Tessa worried.

"It's the blood loss." Duncan said absently.

"How much blood?" Tessa demanded. "There is no blood in the kitchen!"

"Ah," Duncan realised.

"_Ah?"_ Tessa repeated. Her voice rising. "What do you mean .. _Ah?"_

"Shh, .. you'll wake him." Duncan took her arm and led her down the corridor to their bedroom, firmly shutting the door.

"The second coming would not wake that boy, right now." Tessa did not look pleased. "What happened to him?"

"You haven't been into the Store?" Duncan asked.

"No, I came in the other way," Tessa told him. "Why would  ..?" she froze. "A sword? He did this with a _sword? Duncan! What were you thinking?"_

"Me?" Duncan spluttered. "I wasna even here! Yon fine laddie did this all by himself."

"But those cases are locked!" Tessa protested. "He would not be .." she trailed off.

"You won't have to worry about being locked out of the house anymore." Duncan shrugged.

"But what if you had not come home early," Tessa protested. "He could have bled to death!"

"Aye," Duncan let his worry show. "There is that."

***

"He is already badly hurt," Tessa pointed out, "Is it fair to punish him also?"

"I think we have to Tess. Otherwise he's going to be walking on eggshells around us for weeks, waiting for me to blow up at him, or you to demand that he goes back to Social Services."

"So, punishing him will make him feel better?" Tessa raised a sceptical brow.

"And, it will stop him doing anything so dammed fool hardy ever again," Duncan continued. "Lord knows the lad is reckless enough, I'll not have him thinking that his safety is a matter of  indifference to us."

"What should we do?" Tessa gave her support.

"I was hoping you could tell me." Duncan sighed.

"Mac?" Tessa said gently.

"You should have seen him, Tess," Duncan said quietly. "As soon as the Doctor raised the spectre of punishment, he just shut down."

"That does not sound like Richie." Tessa frowned. "Usually, he is one to try and talk his way out of trouble."

"I know." Duncan rolled his mug between his hands. "But I guess things are different now."

"What do you mean?" Tessa was confused.

"We know he's only sixteen." Duncan shrugged. "And we're his parents. Or God knows we're trying to be."

"But this is a good thing, non?"

"That depends," Duncan scrubbed at his face. "I know how my parents would have handled this."

"And this is what Richie expects of us now?" Tessa asked.

"I don't think he knows what to expect." Duncan sighed. "That's the problem."

"We know so little of his life, before." Tessa worried.

"I know," Duncan sighed. "Lord knows, he has enough demons. If we come down too hard on him, we could do more harm than good."

"But if we are too lenient, next time he may be permanently injured." Tessa worried. "Or maybe even killed!"

"I know." Duncan pressed his lips together.

"Duncan," Tessa asked warily, after a moment. "What are you thinking?"

 "I think," Duncan let out a breathe. "We should let Richie decide his own punishment."

"That's your solution?" Tessa scoffed. "Perhaps we should take him out for ice-cream as well. Just to be sure that he really learns his lesson!"

"Tessa, I'm serious," Duncan cut in. "This way, he will have to consider the consequences of his actions. And maybe we'll get a clue to what's going on inside that head of his."

"And you seriously think a sixteen year old boy, will arrive at a suitable punishment?" Tessa challenged.

"I think," Duncan looked up, his eyes dark and deadly serious, "That you will be amazed at what Richie considers to be suitable punishment." 


	3. Jumping to conclusions

AN- As ever, thanks for all the reviews and the e-mails, at present this little offshoot is at least another two or three chapters. But I'm typing as fast as I can!

French bits – enfin, at last.

***

On his way out for his run the next morning Duncan hesitated outside the teenager's bedroom door. It was still very early. And the lad really needed his rest.

Still. It wouldn't hurt to just check on him.

He didn't need to wake him.

"Mac .." Richie looked up at him, his eyes wide and anxious.

"Well, I'll have to send you to bed early more often." Duncan teased.

Richie tensed. 

"Rich, I didn't mean it like _that." Duncan crossed the room, "I meant, it must have done you good. You don't usually show signs of life for at least another hour."_

"Couldn't sleep." Richie mumbled.

Duncan frowned, noticing how tight and drawn Richie's features looked in his too pale face.

"Is your hand hurting you?"

"Some." Richie admitted miserably.

"Did you take your pills?"

"I couldn't .." Richie shook his head.

"Rich, the Doctor said two tablets every four hours. It must be at least eight since your last dose." Duncan was already tipping two small white tablets out of the bottle.

"Yeah, but .." Richie trailed off, as he chased down the pills with the water Duncan gave him.

"What?" Duncan sat down on the bed. "Rich, there's no reason for you to be in pain."

"I couldn't open the bottle." Richie admitted miserably.

Duncan swore fervently.

"Of course you can't. And I'm such a monster than you are too afeared to ask me for help." Duncan let his hurt show.

"I didn't want to be a bother." Richie apologised.

"And you don't think the idea of you lying here in agony because you canna ask me for help is a bother to me?"

Richie took a deep breath and looked the Immortal straight in the eye.

"I've had foster parents who'd say it was no more than I deserved." 

***

If Duncan had learnt anything from his dealings with Richie, it was that the teenager had few defences against cosseting.

"This is hot chocolate." Richie peered at the cup in confusion.

"I know," Duncan settled himself back next to the teen, leaning against the headboard, with his own cup of tea.

"With whipped cream." Richie stressed.

"Keep up your strength." Duncan shrugged. 

"_And _marshmallows?" Richie raised a brow.

"Are you complaining?" Duncan asked.

"No," Richie looked at him. "Its just .."

"You thought I'd serve you naught but bread and water?" Duncan guessed.

"Pretty much." Richie blushed.

"You said I could make you whatever I like," Duncan pointed out. "I like making you Hot Chocolate."

"Tess, is pretty mad, huh?" Richie buried his face in his mug.

Duncan blinked. "Why would you say that?"

"Because if you are being this nice to me, I figure she must be out there planning my execution."

"Rich, just because we are upset at something that you have done, doesn't mean we don't love you anymore." Duncan assured him.

"Always has." Richie said so softly Duncan almost didn't hear it.

Duncan slipped his arm around the teen's shoulder and pulled him gently against his chest, taking his own solace from the proximity of the lad he loved more than his own soul.

"I've let you handle the swords before," Duncan reminded him gently. "Would it have been so hard, to wait until I came home?"

"It wouldn't have been the same." Richie yawned against his chest.

"Aye. You wouldn't be sitting here with a gash the size of the Grand Canyon in your hand, for a start." Duncan chided.

"That part was an accident," Richie protested. "I didn't mean to screw it up."

"What exactly did you mean to do?" Duncan asked curiously

"Better," Richie said cryptically, snuggling a little closer to the Immortal's chest.

"Rich?"

When there was no answer Duncan looked down at the teen.

He was sound asleep.

"Figures." Duncan eased out gently from the sleeping teen. "You'd do anything to get out of coming for a run, my lad." He scolded fondly.

He gave him a kiss on the cheek, left a quick note for Tessa, and went out on his run.

He'd only be gone for a hour.

What could possibly happen?

***

"We have to take him back to the Hospital." Tessa greeted Mac as soon as he came in the door.

"What?" Duncan was alarmed, Richie had seemed well enough when he left. "What's wrong?"

"I think he may be allergic to the antibiotics." Tessa told him.

"Connor said he didn't have any allergies." Duncan protested.

"Well then, the records are wrong," Tessa huffed. "Because he told me before that he is allergic to Broccoli."

Even in these circumstances, Duncan couldn't help but smile.

"Um. Tess, you remember that conversation we had, about not everything that comes out of Richie's mouth is meant to be taken literally?"

"He's not allergic?" Tessa looked confused.

"No, he's just a teenager," Duncan assured her. "Who thinks anything remotely healthy is akin to poison."

"Well, right now, he is a very sick teenager." Tessa insisted. "He barely touched his breakfast. And he has been ill, twice, since you left."

"Are you sure it's the medication?" Duncan couldn't help but ask.

"My cooking would not make him so tired and lethargic," Tessa shot back.

"Lethargic?" Duncan blinked. That was not an adjective he could ever imagine anyone applying to Richie.

"That is the right word, non?" Tessa clarified. "He does not seem to care if I take his temperature, or give him a wash."

"He let you _wash_ him?" Duncan's jaw dropped.

"Just the top half," Tessa said, with a slight blush. "But he was so quiet and unlike himself. I really think something is wrong."

"Aye," Duncan agreed. "Something is wrong alright."

"Enfin," Tessa threw up her hands, "Now will you please go and fetch the car."

"Tess, you didn't _tell him we were taking him back to the Hospital, did you?" Duncan winced._

"Of course," Tessa nodded. "I do not want him to think that we do not care about him."

"And, he's still here?" Duncan found that hard to believe.

"Well, he would not be if you would stop arguing with me and fetch the car," Tessa pointed out.

"That's not exactly what I meant Tess." Duncan was already heading towards Richie's room.

***

Richie was sitting on the edge of his bed, he had managed to pull on his loose fatigue pants and shrug into his jacket, he'd given up on the idea of socks Duncan noted, and was swearing softly as he tried to figure out how to lie the laces on his sneakers with only one good hand.

"Going for a run?" Duncan asked lightly, leaning up against the door.

Richie spared him a brief, scathing, glance.

"You promised." He said shortly. "No dumping me at the Hospital."

"I did, Tessa didn't."

He'd meant it as explanation. But Richie's face went tight and hard.

"That's real cheap Macleod," he sneered. "If you wanted me out, I at least thought you'd have the guts to do it yourself. Not have your girlfriend do your dirty work for you."

"Actually," Duncan responded. "I think Tessa is right, maybe you do need to go back to the Hospital."

Richie looked like he had been hit in the gut.

"Because you are clearly hallucinating if you think that we would do aught but in care of you." Duncan's brogue thickened.

Richie looked down at his foot and tugged uselessly at the lace. Only when Duncan saw the drops of moisture hit the wooden floor did he realised that the lad was crying.

"Hey, none of that."

Scooping up the teen, he hugged him, tight and close, murmuring gentle reassurance as the shattered teen sobbed, hot tears of pain, fear and exhaustion into his chest.

"I'm sorry," Richie managed. "I just thought  .. and then you .. and Tessa said .."

"We just want you to get well, petit," Tessa appeared behind Duncan. "You were so sick."

"That's the antibiotics," Richie sniffed. "The tablets are so big, I can't swallow them and they start to dissolve in my mouth. Its tastes pretty bad, I guess that made me sick."

"But you have been so quiet .." Tessa worried, smoothing back his hair, as Duncan settled him on the bed and pulled off his sneakers.

"I was just trying to be good." Richie blushed.

"And now you are flushed .." Tessa put the back of her hand against his cheek. "Are you sure you are not sick?"

"No, I'm just dying of embarrassment," Richie looked awkward.

"Rich, there's naught amiss with showing your feelings to those who love you." Duncan reminded him, as he helped him out of his jacket and pants.

"You don't think that was a bit of an overreaction?" Richie challenged.

"Well, maybe just a bit," Duncan grinned at the look on the teen's face, as he tucked the comforter back around him.

"Duncan!" Tessa slapped him. "He has not been well and the medication he is taking is very strong."

"Aye, he's leery with loss of blood," Duncan teased. "Maybe we should get him some black pudding."

"What's that?" Richie asked suspiciously.

Duncan told him.

"That's gross, I'm going to be sick again." Richie made as if to get out of bed.

"You'll stay put, until you're told otherwise," Duncan told him. "I don't want you falling over your feet and doing yourself further mischief."

"You need your sleep, Richie." Tessa added her support, knowing how much the active teen would hate the enforced bed rest.

"Is this my punishment?" Richie asked quietly.

Duncan and Tessa exchanged a quick look.

If Richie was well enough to ask, he was well enough to hear their decision.

"We've been meaning to talk to you about that." Duncan informed him.

***  
If you don't know what is in Black Pudding and you want to, you can e-mail me, there might be people eating their dinner reading this!


	4. Richie's dilemma

AN – As ever thanks for all the reviews and the e-mail feedback. I _know _people are anxious to know what Richie chooses, but the whole point of this story is to examine how and why he arrives at that choice, which won't happen if I just give the solution! This way his choice should make more sense and, I hope, provide a better story. Let me know what you think!

***

"You want to me tell you how I should be punished?" Richie repeated carefully.

"Yes." Duncan nodded.

"How about, not at all?" Richie offered instantly.

"If that's what you think, c'mon Tess." Duncan stood up and started to walk towards the door.

"Hang on," Richie's voice stopped him. "You're actually serious about this?"

Duncan turned to face him.

"Rich, I've never been more serious about anything in my life."

"This is what we have decided." Tessa agreed.

"So, if I say I don't think I deserve any punishment, then you'll leave it at that?" Richie wanted to be sure.

Duncan came back to sit on the bed.

"Is that what you think?"

"What do you care what I think?" Richie looked away guiltily. "You made the stupid rule. You get to decide the punishment."

"Was it such a stupid rule?" Tessa asked gently, "If it would have stopped you from getting hurt?"

"I was doing fine," Richie protested. "Mac startled me!"

"Oh, so this is Duncan's fault?" Tessa raised a brow. "Perhaps, he is the one who should be punished?"

"Get real," Richie snorted "Adults don't get _punished_."

"That's not true." Duncan corrected. "What about speeding fines? Or jail sentences? Actions have consequences Rich, that doesn't stop just because you get a bit older."

"Mac, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you're a _lot older." _

"Doesn't change anything Rich."

OK, I'll bite," Richie looked up. "When was the last time you guys got punished for anything?"

"I have more than a few parking tickets." Tessa murmured.

"You do?" Richie grinned.

"You do?" Duncan repeated. "How many more than a few?"

"I do not know!" Tessa threw up her hands. "There is never anywhere in this city to park!"

"So we know Tess is only human," Richie looked over at the Immortal. "What about you Mac? When was the last time your halo slipped?"

"Yesterday," Duncan surprised him.

"Huh?" Richie blinked.

"You know, how I've always said that you have to treat that which is precious and fragile with the utmost care?" Duncan asked.

"Uh huh," Richie nodded. "No breaking the irreplaceable stuff."

"Well, I forgot that," Duncan made a face. "And as a result of my negligence, the most precious thing in the Store got broken."

"Oh man," Richie breathed. "Was it worth a whole lot?"

"Priceless." Duncan admitted ruefully.

"Yeah, but you've insurance, right?" Richie pointed out. "So, its not a real punishment, is it?"

"I'm being punished, because my precious lad got hurt," Duncan looked at him. "And it is my duty to do everything in my power to prevent that, and I failed."

"Oh," Richie swallowed hard, at the realisation that he had made the Immortal feel bad. "But, I mean, it was me. You didn't have anything to do with it. I didn't mean that before. I already had the sword out of the case and everything, before you got back."

"I know, I found the nick in the floor." Duncan said dryly.

Richie blushed.

"Still, that doesn't change the fact that I left a sword mad lad in his own personal candy store," Duncan continued. "That was negligent and no mistake. I knew those locks were no material barrier to you."

"Yeah, but you trusted me." Richie looked down at his hands. "You thought it would be OK."

"I trusted you to behave like an adult," Duncan pointed out. "But that was unfair and unreasonable. You're only sixteen."

"I'm almost seventeen," Richie protested. "That's practically an adult. And I've been passing as eighteen for the last year. If all that stuff with Teresa hadn't come out, you wouldn't have known any different."

"And that is at least half the problem. You've become accustomed to being treated as an adult. But with adult freedoms comes adult responsibilities and its neither right to fair to expect a lad of your age to shoulder such a burden." Duncan told him.

"You should have the chance to enjoy being a child," Tessa agreed. "Our child."

"So?" Duncan looked at him. "What do you think about choosing your own punishment for this?"

"I think its an adult responsibility." Richie grumbled.

"It is supposed to help you think about the consequences of your actions." Tessa advised him.

"You could stop my allowance." Richie offered with a scowl.

"You don't get an allowance." Duncan retorted.

"My point exactly." Richie challenged. "If you guys are gonna get to torture me like actual parents, then I should get some of the compensations."

"Torture?" Duncan enquired mildly.

"You've already grounded me to my room." Richie said pointedly. "That's a punishment in itself."

"That is not meant as a punishment," Tessa looked shocked. "We simply wish to be sure that you get enough rest, so you will be well."

"Feels like a punishment." Richie muttered.

"That's funny, because it seems to me we spend half our lives trying to get you to come _out of your room?" Duncan raised a brow._

"Perhaps, if we confiscated some of his amusements .." Tessa put in.

"You know, there are rules in the Geneva convention about locking people up in bare, windowless, cells." Richie cut in.

"We'll leave you the window." Duncan grinned tightly at him.

"What if I said I didn't want that as my punishment?" Richie tested the waters.

"Then you get to pick something else." Duncan assured him.

"Do you wish to choose something else?" Tessa asked.

"What would your folks have done?"

"Well, we did not have so many swords in my family," Tessa smiled. "But my father was a great man of letters. So, when we broke a rule, he would have us write an essay, examining why the rule had been made and why it should not be broken.."

"I'm guessing, because I gotta write this stupid essay now, wasn't exactly the kind of thing he was looking for huh?" Richie smiled.

"Certainment pas!" Tessa giggled at the very idea. "He wanted us to understand that the rule had been made for good reasons, to keep us safe."

"I'm not that hot at spelling and stuff," Richie offered, uncertainly. "But I could write an essay, I guess."

"Not with that hand, Tough Guy." Duncan vetoed that idea. "Its supposed to be punishment. Not torture."

"I could use my left hand," Richie suggested. "Or type it on the computer. I still have the one good finger."

"And how long would that take you?" Tessa shook her head. "The punishment should fit the crime, non?"

"Tessa's right," Duncan agreed. "You didn't kill anyone, so I think we can pass on the life sentence. Think of something else."

"Mac, this is _not_ how it works," Richie protested. "You're the loco parents, you get to decide the punishment."

"Do you mean, in loco parentis?" Duncan frowned.

"I guess," Richie blinked at him. "They were always pretty mad, anyhow."

"Some people are not fit to be parents," Tessa declared hotly. "If they teach only that punishment is about retribution what are you supposed to learn from that?"

"Not to get caught." Duncan said flatly.

Richie gave him a quick, startled, glance, for his understanding.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"What would your Dad have done?"

Duncan sighed. He had hoped Richie wouldn't ask that. But he had promised that he would never lie to the teenager.

"He would have taken his belt to my backside for being so foolhardy." He admitted.

"Oh," Richie looked at his hands.

Tessa opened her mouth to speak, but Duncan held up his hand to silence her. Richie needed to work this through for himself.

"Did he, like take down your pants and everything?" Richie squirmed.

"Well, I didn't actually wear pants back then," Duncan reminded him. "You've seen my kilt."

"But that was just for special occasions, right?" Richie looked up. "I mean, you didn't wear it everyday, did you? Like for school and stuff?"

"Well, of course, I didn't actually go to school, either."

"What did you do? I mean, all day?" Richie asked curiously.

"Gathered the wood, tended the flocks, .. practised with my sword." Duncan winced.

"Duncan!" Tessa protested.

"Tessa, that's just the way it was," Duncan defended himself. "In four hundred years you have to expect a few changes."

"Not that many." Richie muttered darkly.

Behind him, Duncan heard Tessa's gasp of shock. But he had been expecting this.

He strove to keep his tone calm and conversational.

"Have you been punished with a belt in the past?"

"Oh yeah." Richie breathed.


	5. Richie's choice

AN- This chapter contains references to physical abuse in Richie's past. Please don't read it if you find that kind of thing in any way upsetting.

***

For a few moment no one spoke.

Then Tessa's expression hardened and she said something to Mac in terse, clipped, French.

He cast a concerned look at Richie, before responding with something that was obviously supposed to be soothing.

Instead, it seemed only to enflame the Frenchwoman further, evoking a rapid torrent of angry words, that caused Mac's features to darken into a hard mask.

"Give us a minute, will you Rich?"

Mac ushered a clearly protesting Tessa out of the room, and down the corridor into their bedroom, where he firmly shut the door.

Which did absolutely nothing to quell the sound of their raised voices.

Richie scooted miserably down in the bedclothes. He had never known Mac and Tessa to fight like this before. And it was clearly all his fault.

He just wished he knew what they were arguing about.

Tessa was clearly insisting on something.

And Mac was protesting. Or maybe defending himself?

_Or defending Richie?_

His heart sank. He should have seen this coming. It was only a matter of time until the couple realised that he was more trouble than he was worth. Right now, Tessa was probably insisting to Mac that they wash their hands of him, and find some nice, obedient, kid, who deserved such a loving home. Mac might argue for a bit. But in the end he'd do what Tessa wanted. He should never have allowed himself to believe that this could last. He should have known better.

He did know better.

If he had been their real kid, Mac would just have put him over his knee and given him a spanking to remember.

That was what _he_ would have done.

Hope flared in Richie's chest.

Maybe there was a way out of this mess, after all.

***

"You knew!" Tessa's fury as she hurled the angry words at him, knew no bounds. "You knew about this, and you did not tell me!"

"Will you keep your voice down?" Duncan cast a worried look at the door. "The lad is skittish enough already."

"Richie does not speak French." Tessa reminded him icily.

"But he can still hear us fighting," Duncan pointed out. "And he knows its about him."

"This is not about him, Duncan Macleod," With something of an effort, Tessa lowered her voice. "This is about you, and the fact that you did not see fit to tell me that our son had been abused."

"Tess, it wasn't my place to tell," Duncan spread his hands. "Lord knows, it isn't as if Richie has been that willing to share pieces of his past with us."

"All the more reason that you should have told me of this!" Tessa protested.

"And what would you have done?" Duncan challenged.

"I would have spoken to Richie, of course," Tessa retorted. "Such a thing should be addressed. He should know that we are there for him and that there are counsellors and such people who can help him."

"And how exactly would you have explained this sudden interest in his welfare?" Duncan threw at her.

"We are his parents!" Tessa threw up our arms. "We are supposed to be interested in his welfare."

"Oh come on Tess, you know as well as I do how Richie would have reacted if we had just confronted him with this," Duncan shook his head. "Why do you think I didn't talk to him when I first noticed the scars?"

"Scars?" Tessa's voice rose. "There are scars?"

"On the backs of his legs." Duncan acknowledged reluctantly..

"How _long _have you known of this?" Tessa's tone did not bode well for the Immortal.

"Since the first time I had to put him to bed." Duncan admitted.

"But you suspected before." Tessa pressed.

"Aye," Duncan sighed. "I've lived too long not to recognise the signs my love."

***

Richie hovered uncertainly outside the couple's bedroom door.

He wasn't at all sure that he had the courage to do this.

In the past Mac had somehow always seemed to know when he needed something. It would be really, really, cool if ..

As if on cue, the Immortal appeared at the door.

"Richie? What's wrong? Are you OK?"

The genuine concern in the Immortal's voice steeled his resolve.

"I .. um .. its about my punishment .. I've made my decision." He stuttered.

Duncan looked at the pale, nervous, teen and didn't bother to point out that he wasn't supposed to be out of his bed.

"Come and sit down." he guided him over to the bed and gently pushed him down, reaching an arm behind him to pull up the armchair.

"Are you sure you do not want more time to think about this?" Tessa asked, coming over to sit by Richie.

"No," Richie shook his head firmly. "I've decided."

"Rich .." Duncan began uncertainly.

"No, Mac, You were right," Richie cut in. "I had to work this out for myself. I .. mean .. the choice is, there really is no choice, right?"

"There's always a choice Rich." Duncan said.

"Not this time," Richie shook his head. "I screwed up, big time. That means a spanking."

But he wasn't looking at either of them when he said it.

Instead, his eyes were fixed on the thick, leather, belt, which lay draped over the back of the armchair.

***

"That's your decision?" Duncan asked, when he could find his voice. "You want me to spank you .. with my _belt?"_

"You don't gotta sound_ so surprised," Richie protested quietly. "I do know how to do the right thing, you know."_

"And you think _this_ is the right thing?" Duncan raised a brow.

"Its what your old man would do, isn't it?" 

"It is," Duncan agreed. "But then, he would also have run a man through simply for being English and urinated in public. I like to think we've moved on a bit since then."

Richie pressed his lips together and looked at the floor.

"Its necessary." He whispered

"Necessary?" Tessa queried, with a frown. "What do you mean, necessary?"

"Look, can we just get it over with please?" Richie begged.

Duncan and Tessa exchanged a look.

"So, how many times should I hit you?" Duncan asked.

"What?" Richie's head came up sharply.

"I've never done this before," Duncan told him. "How many times will it take, before you learn your lesson?"

"I dunno," Richie looked baffled. "Until I'm crying some, I guess."

"Crying?" Tessa looked shocked.

"Alright, Richie," Duncan sighed.  "Come here."  He patted his lap.

Nervously, Richie went to drape himself across the Immortal's knee, only to find his descent gently halted.

"No, come _here,_" Duncan pulled him down so that he was sitting in his lap. Then he reached out and lifted up his chin, bringing his too bright blue eyes, to meet his own warm dark brown ones.

"First, tell me why you think this is so necessary?"

***

_Fourteen year old Richie sat back against the headboard and contemplated his sneakers. He figured he had really done it this time. She had been so mad that she had sent him to his room until he got home. Right now she'd be telling him about his latest escapade. And then it would all be over. He'd send him back to the Orphanage for sure._

_"Richie, come down here, please." His voice called up the stairs._

_With a sigh Richie levered himself off the bed and headed downstairs._

_Less than a week.__ That had to be a record._

_Even for him._

_He was sitting at the table in the kitchen. She was doing something over the stove._

_"Your mother has told me what happened today," he said calmly. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"_

_Maybe he would get sent back to the old neighbourhood, and he could hook up with Maria, and Angie and Gary and the rest._

_"No," he sighed._

_"I beg your pardon?" he raised a brow._

_Richie__ blinked. Surprised that he would care anymore._

_"No, Dad." He amended._

_"Then I suppose the only thing we need to discuss is your punishment." He said._

_"Punishment?"__ Richie echoed._

_"We have been patient with you," He pointed out. "Given you a chance to settle in. We understand that you were angry and disappointed that the  adoption didn't go through. But you are our son now. Surely, you did not expect that your behaviour could go unchecked indefinitely?"_

_Richie__ said nothing.  It had never occurred to him that they might do anything other than just send him back._

_"Richie, your father asked you a question." She prompted gently._

_Looking up, Richie realised that both adults were waiting for an answer._

_"You really think of me as your kid?" he asked uncertainly._

_"Of course," He looked surprised. "Haven't we treated you just like we would our own son?"_

_Richie__ considered that. They had been real  good to him, buying him clothes and stuff and taking him on outings. But lots of foster parents were like that until the novelty of a new kid wore off. It didn't necessary mean anything._

_Except that, just maybe, this time it did._

_"Yes sir." He answered, knowing it would please the man._

_"And do you know what would have happened to our son if he had behaved as you have done this week?" He asked._

_Richie__ flicked a quick glance at the photo of the blonde teenager, who had been so tragically killed in a hit and run accident on his way home from school._

_"You would have punished him." Richie realised._

_Real kids got punished. They didn't get sent back like unwanted parcels._

_"I would have put him over my knee and given him a spanking that would leave him in no doubt that he was my child and I will not tolerate such behaviour." He agreed  unfastened his belt._

_"Um, what are you doing?" Richie asked._

_***_

"I couldn't believe it," Richie continued. "I mean, I'd never been put over anyone's knee before."

"Not even when you were small?" Tessa asked.

"I'd get turned around for a swat or two, if I was real annoying, or a quick cuff round the ear, maybe," Richie acknowledged. "But its amazing what you can get away with when nobody actually cares enough to look."

"But this man was different?" Tessa prompted.

"Oh man, was he," Richie breathed. "He'd go through my homework with me, come to practices, monitor what I ate, what I wore, where I went, he'd even have my friends parents over to check that they were the right sort of people. It was like I was the most important thing in his life."

"Yet, when you crossed him, he beat you, until you cried, and blood ran down your legs, if I'm any judge." Duncan said flatly.

"He said spankings were supposed to hurt." Richie shrugged off the severity. "And he was always real kind afterwards. We'd play a game or he'd read me a story, I mean, I was too old for all that stuff really, but you don't argue with a guy who has just rescinded your sitting down privileges for the foreseeable future .. and besides .."

"You craved his attention." Duncan said softly. "And you would endure anything to ensure his continued approval."

"Yeah," Richie agreed. "I guess. I didn't get much of that male bonding stuff when I was growing up. The occasional spanking didn't seem like such a high price to pay, for finally having a real Dad."

"You can call such a monster a real Father?" Tessa scoffed.

"C'mon Tess, didn't your folks ever spank you when you were a kid?" Richie sounded slightly less certain of himself.

"But this beating with a belt .. this is not spanking!" Tessa protested. "This is child abuse."

"Rich, you have scars." Duncan pointed out gently.

"And you don't?" Richie scoffed. "That's just the way it is, right? Gotta be sure you've made a real impression."

"Rich, I can count on one hand the number of times my father took a belt to me, all the time I was growing up, and he _never left any permanent marks," Duncan told him. "You were with this man for less than six months and the back of your legs, they  .. " his throat closed with emotion, as the tears split down his cheeks._

***

"Hey," Duncan knocked lightly on the door. "You awake?"

"Mac. How are you feeling?" Richie rolled over to look at the Immortal.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Duncan smiled, as he settled himself on the bed, and reached out a hand to check the lad for fever.

Richie swatted it impatiently away.

"Tessa has already, taken my temperature, checked I'm taking enough fluids, dosed me with painkillers, served up a nutrias lunch and .." Richie rolled his eyes. "Given me my antibiotics."

"You didn't like taking the tablets." Duncan shrugged.

"Sally Strawberry Flavoured Syrup?" Richie raised a brow.

"I just said it was for my kid." Duncan grinned.

"Yeah, well," Richie huffed, secretly pleased that the Immortal would go to the trouble of changing the hated medication. "If my hand falls off, because, I'm not getting the proper _adult dosage .."_

"Don't worry, I checked with the Pharmacist," Duncan assured him.

"Then you don't have any excuse for avoiding my question," Richie crossed his arms and waited.

"I could just wait until you fall asleep again." Duncan pointed out.

"But you won't," Richie countered, "Because you love me and you care what happens to me."

"You've been talking to Tessa."

"Actually, Tessa talked to me," Richie picked at the bedclothes. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I guess, I never thought how you might feel about .."

"Being expected to thrash the living daylights out of you?" Duncan supplied.

"I guess I have a pretty screwed up idea of what it means to be loved, huh? Richie squirmed.

"You'll learn," Duncan assured him. "You just haven't had enough practice yet."

"And in the end none of it mattered. He still sent me back to the Orphanage, because I couldn't be the kind of kid he wanted me to be." Richie bit his lip.

"What matters Richie, is whether you are the kind of kid, that you want to be." Duncan leant over and kissed him. "Although .."

"Oh Mac, please .." Richie flopped back. "Can't you just ground me or something?"

"Sorry, Tough Guy," Duncan shook his head. "You still have to come up with a _suitable punishment."_

"You could just give me a token swat on my butt, to prove that you would never beat on me like that, and all could be forgiven." Richie suggested with what he hoped was his most winning smile.

"That might work .. if you were six," Duncan gave him a tight grin. "But I think, a lad of sixteen should take a little more responsibility for his actions. Don't you?"

"Aw, Mac." Richie protested. "C'mon, a little help here?"

"You're a bright boy Richie," Duncan tousled his hair and headed towards the door. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

Richie nestled comfortably under the bedclothes. What on earth could he come up with that would make this right?

And then it came to him.


	6. Be careful what you wish for

AN – Sorry about the delay, Real Life landed on me from a great height, so I've had no spare time. But I had the day off today, hence all these new updates. After all I've had plenty of time to think. Here, at last, is the conclusion, please let me know what you think!

***

 Richie groaned as he woke up the next morning and remembered his decision. This was gonna be pure torture. But it was no more than he deserved.

He might as well start right away.

"Hey, Rich," Duncan popped his head round the door, shortly followed by the rest of his body. "How are you feeling?"

"My hand is a little sore," Richie admitted. "But I feel much better than I did yesterday."

Perhaps predictably Mac only heard the first part.

"You hand hurts?" He sat on the bed. "Want me to take a look?"

"Yes please." Richie offered him the injured hand.

Duncan blinked. If Richie was willing to let him help, it must really hurt. As he gently unwrapped the gauze, he fervently hoped that the cut had not got infected.

To his relief, it was a little sore and swollen around the edges, but nothing our of the ordinary for this stage of the healing.

"Alright. It doesn't look too bad, but I'll clean it up, put some more of that cream on it and a fresh dressing, how does that sound?"

"Thanks Mac." Richie agreed.

Given that the wound looked only moderately painful, Duncan was mildly surprised when Richie yelped.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked.

"Just a bit," Richie flushed slightly. 

"Sorry." Duncan apologised.

He wondered if there was a reason that the lad was being unusually jumpy.

"Rich, you're not still worrying about yesterday are you?" he asked. "Don't you know by now that I would never punish you like that?"

"I know," Richie nodded fervently. "I do," he insisted at Duncan's sceptical look. "Geez Mac, most of my foster parents would have been champing at the bit to torture me as much as possible, you've vetoed every punishment I've come up with so far. You think that doesn't tell me something about how much you care about me?"

"Love," Duncan corrected gently. "I love you Tough Guy. That's the difference."

"I guess." Richie smiled shyly.

"Answer me one question?" Duncan fished.

"Sure." Richie squirmed slightly.

"If so many of your foster parents punished you when you went off the rails, how come you still do so many bloody reckless things?" Duncan asked.

For a moment he though Richie wouldn't answer him.

But the lad surprised him.

"I guess, I never much cared what they thought of me," he admitted. "And even if they were majorly pissed some attention was better than none."

"Ach lad," Duncan reached out and hugged him, mussing his hair fondly. "Do me a favour though?" he nudged.

"What?" Richie looked distinctly wary.

"Remember that you are the centre of our world, and we would much rather spoil you than spank you," Duncan teased. "You don't need to act out just to get our attention. Whatever, you do, we'll always notice."

"I'm getting that." Richie admitted.

"Good," Duncan finished wrapping up the hand. "Well. Since that doesn't look like its gonna fall off any time soon, how do you feel about getting up today?"

"You want me to open the Store?" Richie offered.

"Easy Tough Guy," Duncan chuckled. "I was thinking more, some time out on the couch, with the TV and the remote control."

"Can I at least get dressed?" Richie demanded, then winced.

"I think that would be acceptable," Duncan frowned. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Richie nodded earnestly.

But Duncan couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

***

When Richie appeared, neatly dressed in the dark blue chinos and button down shirt that Tessa had bought him to work in the Store, with his hair rigorously combed. Duncan knew something was amiss.

He just wished he knew what it was.

"If you think you are going to sneak out to meet some girl .." Tessa stood with her hands on her hips.

"What? No! Tess, I'm just gonna sit here like a stone all day, honest." The look of pure shock on Richie's face protested his innocence. The lad was a terrible liar.

"Well .." Tessa huffed. "Make sure that you do."

"Actually, I kinda wanted to talk to you guys about that." Richie spoke up.

"Oh?" Duncan tucked the afghan firmly around the lad, and put the remote within easy reach. "Are you taking a vow of celibacy?"

"Um Kinda," Richie blushed.

Duncan exchanged a quick glance with Tessa and they both settled into the big arm chair across from the teen. "Go on." Duncan encouraged.

"Look, I screwed up cos you gave me too much responsibility right?" Richie began. "You treated me like an adult when I'm only sixteen. So, as my punishment I figure I should go back to being a kid." He looked at them expectantly.

"Define being a kid." Duncan requested.

"You know," Richie squirmed. "You guys get to decide all those parents things, what my curfew is, what time I go to bed, what kind of things I can watch on TV, that kinda thing."

"For how long?" Tessa asked.

"Till you think I'm more responsible." Richie offered. "Like regular parents."

Duncan and Tessa exchanged an unreadable look.

"What?" Richie demanded.

"And you won't complain?" Duncan demanded.

"Or think we are being unreasonable?" Tessa added.

"You guys are the most reasonable people I've ever met," Richie said sincerely. "I can do this."

At least he hoped so.

***

"Is he in bed?" Duncan asked.

"With his teeth brushed and his pyjamas on, and the covers pulled up to his chin." Tessa sighed.

"Pyjamas?" Duncan winced.

"It is like our Richie has been kidnapped and replaced with some alien!" Tessa exploded. "All week he has been the perfect child. He eats all his vegetable for lunch. _And dinner. He would not put his feet on the furniture. I cannot take much more of this!"_

"You think that's bad," Duncan told her. "This morning I caught him watching Documentaries on the TV and this afternoon he was reading a book."

"That is not so bad," Tessa objected. "At least those things are educational. He is much brighter than he admits."

"The Documentary was on the life of the sea slug and the book was in Latin." Duncan pointed out.

"Oh," Tessa frowned, cuddling up beside him. "Are you sure he is not still delirious?"

"No,"  Duncan shook his head sadly. "I think he is trying to be the son he thinks we want him to be."

"What?" Tessa sat up and looked the Immortal full in the face. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it Tess," Duncan told her. "Has he been the least bit, annoying, irritating, or obnoxious all week?"

"No, he has been the perfect Angel." Tessa did not look pleased. "It is not natural. Because we are angry at one thing that he has done does not mean that we wish him to be like …" words failed her. "Like this .."

"Doesn't it?" Duncan arched a brow. "You bought him all those new clothes."

"I just wanted him to have some nice things," Tessa said sadly, "His clothes are so old and worn. You were the one who told him about the Teutonic Knights."

"I thought he would enjoy the story," Duncan protested. "I didn't expect him to start work on a translation."

You must talk to him." Tessa decided.

"Me?" Duncan  protested. "Why me?"

"Because." Tessa threw Richie's favourite argument at him with an impish smile.

"Try again." Duncan nuzzled her neck.

"We must talk to him?" Tessa suggested, swayed by his affectionate advances..

Duncan only wished he could influence Richie so easily.

Then again .. maybe he could at that.

***

The next morning Richie woke to the unmistakable smell of apple pancakes. He couldn't help but grin.

Maybe this torture had some compensations.

"Hey Rich," Duncan knocked lightly on the door and came in carrying a well laden tray, closely followed by Tessa, who was carrying a pot of tea and a jug of orange juice.

"Um. What's this?" Richie wondered.

"Breakfast." Duncan told him. "Most important meal of the day?"

"We don't usually have it in my room." Richie pointed out.

"Well, we wanted to talk to you." Duncan heaped two enormous pancakes onto a plate, topped them off with whipped cream. And passed them to Richie.

"Um." Richie looked from one to the other. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Indeed," Tessa poured him a glass of juice. "You have been very foolish."

"So .. you're going to spoil me to death?" Richie hazarded.

"Nope," Duncan helped Tessa to a pancake, without cream, and then took one himself. "We're gonna set you straight."

"S'cuse me?" Richie was totally lost.

"You did a damn foolhardy thing." Duncan nodded at his now healed hand.

"And we were very angry about that." Tessa acknowledged.

Richie looked down, wishing fervently that the bed would swallow him up.

The Immortal's warm, strong, hand, under his chin, gently brought his eye up.

"But then, you took responsibility for your actions." Duncan affirmed.

"And you have punished yourself with this behaviour far more severely than we would have done." Tessa put in softly.

"IT must have nearly killed you, being absolutely honest with us all the time and wearing those clothes." Duncan agreed.

"Have you guys been eating that weird cheese with mould in it again?" Richie asked. "Cos, I gotta tell you. I have no idea what you are talking about."

 "Latin?" Duncan challenged.

"Pyjamas?" Tessa arched a brow.

To his credit Richie blushed slightly.

"OK, so maybe I went a bit overboard," he acknowledged. "I just wanted .." he trailed off.

"Rich, we may not always like everything you do, but we will _always _love you." Duncan told him.

"Just the way you are," Tessa smiled.

Richie took a deep, shuddering breath. No one had ever said that to him before. He had to be sure.

"You mean that?"

"You can be very responsible, you know, most of the time. You keep Duncan's secret, non?" Tessa assured him.

"What about the rest of time?" Richie was cautious.

"That's called growing up, Tough Guy," Duncan told him. "If we don't give you the freedom to make choices then how are you ever going to learn?"

"So, no curfew? Naked mud wrestling on TV?" Richie grinned cheekily at them.

And Duncan was glad to see it.

"Why don't we negotiate something we can all live with?" he laughed.

"I can live with that." Richie grinned.

"Good," Duncan tousled his hair. "Now eat your breakfast."

"That, I can do," Richie took a forkful of pancake, then paused. "Um. Tessa didn't make these did she?"


	7. House Rules

AN – This is especially for those who wanted to know if Richie got his naked mud wrestling!

***

"Alright," Duncan came back from taking the dirty dishes to the kitchen, with a pencil and a pad of paper. "Scoot over."

Richie shifted far enough to the right to allow the Immortal to settle on the bed beside him, his cheeks flushing pink with pleasure when Duncan draped his free arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close.

"OK, House Rules," Duncan looked at his family. "Where shall we start?"

"We could start with laundry," Tessa suggested dryly, as she moved a large pile of washing onto the floor so she could sit down.

"I can do laundry," Richie agreed.

"Do you know to separate the colours from the whites?" Tessa asked warily. She wasn't at all sure she wanted to trust the teen with her beloved wardrobe.

"I know its bad if you don't do it." Richie made a face.

Tessa blanched.

"Why don't we divide it up?" Duncan suggested, hastily. "Tess, you can sort and load the washing machine. Rich, you can unload it once its dry and I'll do any ironing. And" he gave Richie a stern look. "We are all responsible for putting  our own stuff in the hamper when its dirty and in the closets when its clean?"

"I can do that," Richie agreed.

"Good," Duncan teased. "Because, I'm going to let Tessa burn anything left lying around for longer than 24 hours."

"You would as well." Richie laughed.

"Next," Duncan chewed on his pencil. "Bedtime."

"I think nine thirty is quite late enough for a boy of Richie's age." Tessa said with an absolutely straight face.

"What!" Richie squeaked.

"That is how negotiation works, non?" Tessa gave an impish smile. "You begin with what you most desire?"

"Okaay," Richie grinned at her. "2 a.m."

"How around eight thirty?" Duncan countered.

"Alright .." Richie rolled his eyes and considered what he might actually get away with. "Twelve thirty?"

"On weekends," Duncan agreed, with an nod of approval from Tessa, "But during the week you have to get up to open the Store."

"Unless, you just want me to work just the afternoons," Richie tried. "You're always saying that teenagers beed more sleep than adults so they can grown properly."

"Which is why you need to go to bed earlier," Duncan said with sweet reason. "So, you can get your full eight hours."

"Does Friday count as a week night?" Richie bartered.

"Nope," Duncan allowed. "I think we can give you that one Tough Guy."

"But Sunday should," Tessa put in. "Since you must be up on Mondays."

"Whatever," Richie nodded.

"Right .." Duncan considered. "Curfew."

"One a.m." Richie said instantly.

"Sorry, no can do," Duncan grinned at him. "You already agreed to your bedtimes, so you have to be home before them."

"Ah, man," Richie groaned. "How did I not see that one coming?"

"How about Twelve and Eleven?" Tessa suggested. "That will give you time to be ready for bed."

"Tess, it doesn't take me half an hour to get ready for bed!"

"Well, it would if you would brush your teeth and such things, as you should, rather than climbing under the covers with all your clothes on as you do! Tessa retorted.

"How about," Duncan broke in, before this could escalate, "We agree than Rich can come home when he likes, so long as he in is bed, with his teeth brushed, and wearing some sort of night attire, by bedtime?"

"Define, night attire." Richie demanded

"I think I still have an old cotton nightshirt somewhere that wouldn't be _too_ big on you." Duncan measured him with his eyes.

"Nightshirt?" Richie scowled. "You mean, one of those things that looks like a dress?"

"It's a shirt," Duncan said patiently. "Night Shirt. For men."

"Looks, like a dress," Richie muttered.

"You could just wear your pyjamas." Tessa suggested.

"I could just wear nothing at all." Richie huffed.

"You'll get cold," Duncan said equably. "You can wear anything, that's comfortable, as long as its not the same clothes that you've been wearing that day, alright?"

Richie opened his mouth.

"Or the clothes that you are planning to wear the next day." Duncan finished for him.

"OK," Richie agreed grumpy at being pre-empted. "What else?"

"Food." Duncan said.

"Oh." Richie said in a small voice and scooted down a little further in the bedclothes. "I guess I shouldn't eat as much, huh?"

"That is not a problem," Tessa shook her head. "Just tell us if you use the last of something, so we can get more."

"You don't want to make loads of rules about not eating between meals or midnight raids on the refrigerator?" Richie was surprised.

"Of course not," Tessa looked genuinely shocked. "If you are hungry, you should eat."

"What about you?" Richie looked warily at Duncan. "Don't you want to ration my sodas or hide my cereal or something?"

Duncan considered that. It was no secret he wanted Richie to eat more healthily. But he also wanted it to be a regime that he would stick to. That mean tit had to be Richie's choice and that wasn't going to happen overnight.

"How about, so long as you eat your five portions of fruit or vegetable a day, you can eat anything else you like?" Duncan bargained.

"Deal." Richie agreed firmly.

"OK, Clothes." Duncan winced.

"No piercings." Tessa said at once.

"They're not clothes." Richie protested.

"They're a form of attire." Tessa said loftily.

"You're a little too late sweetheart." Duncan murmured.

"What?" Tessa looked Richie up and down, as if a hole might suddenly appear. "Where?"

"Um. Can't you just take Mac's word for it?" Richie blushed.

"You must take it out .." Tessa protested. "Its .. unhygienic."

"Not to mention bloody unnatural." Duncan grumbled with feeling.

"Do I have to throw out the rest of my wardrobe as well?" Richie challenged.

"What?" Tessa looked confused.

"My clothes," Richie picked at the blanket. "You hate them. They don't fit in. Like me."

"Oh," Tessa put her hand to her mouth. She had not realised that Richie had taken her comments about his clothes so much to heart.

"It is true that they are not to my taste," she agreed. "But then you would look silly in my cocktail dresses, non?"

"Its not the same." Richie refused to be mollified.

"No, it is not," Tessa agreed. "Because my clothes are clean and warm and suitable for these colds winters. As yours should be."

"How about, you both go through and work out what things really do need to be replaced?" Duncan suggested.

"And I will buy you something new for each thing we throw away." Tessa promised. "Something we both like?"

Richie looked up. "Could I have a jumper like Mac's?"

"Of course," Tessa smiled.

Duncan made a mental note to remind Tessa not to tell Richie how much a cashmere sweater cost. The lad would be mortified.

"Now, the reason we started all this," Duncan paused. "The Swords."

Richie tensed.

"No restrictions." Duncan announced. "You want to take one out and wave it around, that's up to you."

"What?" Richie said, shocked.

"What?" Tessa repeated, icily.

"Well, forbidding you to touch them did me no good at all," Duncan shrugged. "So, we might as well try it this way."

"This is a guilt trip, right?" Richie hazarded.

"This is about responsibility Rich," Duncan told him, "If you're going to handle the swords, I'll teach you to do it appropriately, and you'll not let me down. Will you?"

"No sir." Richie said with such absolute sincerity, that even Tessa's frosty demeanour thawed slightly.

Still, he had no doubt he would be hearing about this later.

"Good lad," he praised. "So, have we forgotten anything?"

"Um. Girlfriends?" Richie squirmed.

"Completely out of the question until you turn twenty one," Duncan said with a note of finality. "Anything else?"

"Duncan!" Tessa giggled. "Don't tease him."

"You could bring them round for dinner occasionally." He amended.

"You want to vet my girlfriends?" Richie looked worried.

"We wan to meet them," Tessa soothed. "As a family."

"What if you don't like them." Richie asked nervously.

"Then we'll tell you," Duncan shrugged. "But we'll wait until after she's gone home."

"Gee. Thanks" Richie scowled. "What if she doesn't want to go home?" he challenged.

Duncan sighed. He knew Tessa firmly believed that Richie was too young for such things and worried about the possible dangers. He worried that Richie too easily confused sex with love and didn't have enough experience with the latter to tell the difference.

"How about, the next time you feel you want to take that step, you come and talk it over with me first?" he suggested.

"You wouldn't mind?" Richie looked suddenly vulnerable.

"It would be my privilege lad." Duncan tousled his hair. "So, are we done?"

"What about you Richie?" Tessa asked gently. "Is there anything else you want?"

"You mean apart from the naked mud wrestling?" Richie joked.

"What do you think, Tough Guy?" Duncan demanded, seizing him in an affectionate headlock, and tickling him unmercifully.

"I think," Richie said, laughing. "That I have everything I need. Um Tess Help!"


End file.
